Halloween is in full swing at the big-box home improvement store (the blue one) where I work as a Customer Service Associate (actually, we’ve had merchandise in for over a month now, but it came out in earnest over the past week).  Yes, in addition to selling my normal inventory of grills, air conditioners, trimmers, and dehumidifiers – I now have to look at pumpkins, goblins and skeletons throughout my shift.

If you know anything about me, you probably know that Halloween is NOT my favorite time of the year.  Getting joy out of being frightened is not something that really rubs my rhubarb, but now I’m forced to walk by tons of creepy merchandise that loves to shout, shake, and scream the second I get near it.  I round a corner and a black raven tries to jump off of a pumpkin or a huge jack-o-lantern starts screaming and moaning like it’s possessed.

Fun.

What surprises me the most is the customers that come in with small children (some of them infants) and purposefully trick little Jed or Savannah into triggering one of these demonic creations, then laughing hysterically as their bundle of joy gets traumatized, running away and crying in uncontrollable panic.  It must be a redneck’s passive-aggressive response for little Cooter keeping them up at night for that first six months as a newborn.  These youngsters will forever associate home improvement with discomfort and fear at some future therapy session.

“Yes, doctor, I break out into a cold sweat and fall to the ground – curling into the fetal position when someone even mentions the words ‘fluorescent lighting’.  Is there something wrong with me?”

“Probably,” says Dr. Obvious, scribbling on his notepad.  “That will be $200 for the hour, please.  You can pay the receptionist out front.”

Speaking of hayseeds, the holiday questions I get surrounding the festivities have to be heard to be believed.

“What date is Halloween this year?” asks one older gentleman, wearing a wife-beater T-shirt, Bermuda shorts, suspenders, and a Panama hat.

“Are you being serious?” I reply.

“Yeah,” states Methuselah.  “Do you know the date?”

“October 31^st?” I respond with genuine surprise, looking over my shoulder for the ‘Candid Camera’ crew.

“Thank you,” he states, shuffling off towards the back of the store, most likely to pollute one of the bathroom stalls with a mighty deposit that would melt the barnacles off of a battleship’s hull in drydock.  I don’t know what these guys are eating, but some of them should have their intestinal tracts registered with the government as offensive “first-strike” weapons.

“Do you have any Thanksgiving merchandise?” asks a blue-haired woman, tightly clutching four hummingbird feeders.

Even though it is only September, my sad reply is “yes – there are some Thanksgiving-themed pillows and doormats in the main drive aisle.”  I must confess that turkey and pilgrim merchandise is outnumbered probably fifty to one by ghosts and spiders in our current inventory, but darn it all if we don’t have some.

“Hey buddy, do you all have any chicken feed?” comes a lone voice, shouting at me from half an aisle away as I am up on a ladder, pulling down stock from the upper shelves.

I’m not even looking over to acknowledge the question.

“Nope!” I shout to the box in front of me and continue my work, ignoring any further inquiries from Mister Green Jeans.

This is all day.

I won’t even get into the wrestling match I had to perform with a six foot tall inflatable dragon to get it into position on an end-cap display – twenty feet up in the air.  I’ve screamed fewer obscenities when stubbing my toe on the stairs at 4:00 in the morning.  I think I’ll buy it at the end of the season, just to joyfully set it on fire and destroy it so it never brings such frustration to another living human being.

Wanna hear something really funny?  I just received a “Customer Focus” award and pin for my positive guest comments and customer service.  Go figure.

We’ll soon be resetting the store with heaters, fireplaces, and snow blowers in preparation of the fall and winter seasons.

I can hardly wait.

Oh, and guess what was on the latest supply truck?

Artificial Christmas trees.

Ugh.